


Deep In the Woodwork

by SaltyServal



Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst and Feels, Forgot to mention it’s more modern royalty my bad, Friends to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, JUST BECAUSE I CHOSE NOT TO USE WARNINGS DOESN'T MEAN NONE APPLY, M/M, Miya Atsumu Needs a Hug, Modern Royalty, Osamu is highkey pissed off most of this fic, Panic Attacks, Protective Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sad Miya Atsumu, SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021, haha sword go brrrr, it's for the sake of spoilers, its complicated, think shadow and bone or red queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 13:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30039273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyServal/pseuds/SaltyServal
Summary: “Wake up, Sakusa. We were in a war. Your soldiers killed my best friend and my father. Your cousin dragged me away from my home. Your family took everything from me. I’m not your friend.” Atsumu said, his voice rising. Kiyoom took an involuntary step back, flinching again. Everything he said was true, and it cut like a knife.“My kingdom won. My family won. You lost, Atsumu. These are the consequences.” Kiyoomi retorted.“Thanks, Omi. Really needed a reminder.” The blonde said dryly, laying against the bed. Kiyoomi remembered holding his hand when they were ten, how he helped him get through his fear. And now Kiyoomi couldn’t do the same, he couldn’t help him. They were opposites, and had to remain that way. They couldn’t be friends, they couldn’t even be mutuals. Atsumu was the enemy, and he clearly didn’t want to reforge any bond either.ORInarizaki and Itachiyama were at war for years. When the dust settled, Itachiyama claimed victory. Miya Atsumu, prince of Inarizaki, was sent to live in Itachiyama as glorified political puppet, a reminder of who would suffer if rebellion occured.And Sakusa Kiyoomi wanted to help him. He just didn't know how.
Relationships: Komori Motoya & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205345
Comments: 6
Kudos: 82
Collections: SakuAtsuAngstWeek





	Deep In the Woodwork

**Author's Note:**

> Day four: royalty  
> SKIP TO THE BOTTOM IF YOU WISH TO SEE THE WARNINGS! IF NOT, GOOD LUCK!

When Sakusa Kiyoomi, the prince of the Itachiyama Empire, the third in line to the throne of the North, was a child, he was afraid of the dark. 

Not just afraid.  _ Terrified _ . His mother would leave a lamp on, but the deep confides of the darkest parts of the day scared Kiyoomi to no end. He would lay awake, staring at the ceiling, curled up and crying quietly. 

He thought he did a good job of hiding it. As the prince, it was his job to be brave. To show no fear. Strength and power, that was what Itachiyama had to stand for. With so many nations under their control, weakness could not be shown.

When he turned ten, his mother forbade him from leaving a lamp on. She said he had to grow up and learn to face his fears. Kiyoomi remembered nodding and saying he would be alright, and that it would be no big deal. 

He had lied. He barely slept, scared that something was waiting to come and hurt him. Kiyoomi cried himself to sleep, the fear so bad he couldn’t shake it off. He hadn’t expected to get over it; he was half-convinced he would be plagued with it for the rest of his life. 

Kiyoomi never expected that Miya Atsumu, Prince of the Inarizaki Woodlands, would be the one to change that. 

It had been a perfectly normal day, and a perfectly normal night, save for the visiting delegated from Inarizaki. The smaller kingdom paid tribute to Itachiyama to keep them off of their land, keep themselves safe and free. Kiyoomi wondered why they didn’t just give in. It would be easier than the endless trade deals and negotiations. 

But then again, what did he know? 

The king and queen of Inarizaki had two sons, both of which were Kiyoomi’s age. He didn’t see them at the meetings, nor did he see them around the castle. He didn’t care. Twins usually meant headaches, from what he heard from the delegates. 

Kiyoomi’s routine was the same each night. He prepared for bed, read, and turned his lights off with shaking hands. He would lay there an hour or two, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He would jump at every noise, until he got up, paced his room, and laid back down. Rinse and repeat until he eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion. 

He had just laid down when it happened. His room was pitch black, and the only thing Kiyoomi could hear was his breathing. In, out. In, out. Faster and faster until he hyperventilating because the crushing darkness of the night was pressing in around him--

Kiyoomi’s eyes snapped open as his door opened. He sat up sharply and stared at the intruder. He couldn’t have been older than Kiyoomi himself. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes were just a few shades lighter. 

“Who—?” Kiyoomi started to say, flicking on one of his lamps. The boy turned quickly, holding a finger to his lips. 

“Shhh!” He hissed out, pressing his ear against the door. “I’m hiding.” He whispered loudly. Kiyoomi blinked at him. 

“You’re in my room.” He deadpanned. 

“And?” The boy seemed completely unbothered. 

“I’m the prince.” Kiyoomi responded, trying to sound haughty. “I could have you executed for this.” 

“Well,  _ I’m _ a prince too, so ha!” The boy snickered, pulling away from the door and crossing his arms. Kiyoomi glared at him. 

“Liar.” He retorted. “I’m the only prince of Itachiyama.” 

“Well, I’m from Inarizaki.” The boy lifted his chin, pride glimmering in his eyes. “I’m Miya Atsumu. But ya can call me Atsumu.” Kiyoomi pursed his lips. 

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.” He said quietly. Atsumu grinned, skipping over to his bedside. 

“I didn’t really think that anyone would be up right now.” He said. “I thought if I was super quiet, no one would notice me.” 

“You weren't that quiet.” Kiyoomi said dryly. “You sounded like an elephant.” 

“Hey!” Atsumu gasped out, his ears turning pink. “I wasn’t *that* loud!” 

“Mhm.” Kiyoomi shrugged. “Who are you hiding from anyway?” 

“My brother.” Atsumu wrinkled his nose. “He challenged me ta a game of hide and seek, and there’s no way I could’ve said no.” 

“It’s like… midnight.” Kiyoomi said slowly. Atsumu nodded, looking completely unapologetic. 

“Yer up too.” He shot back. “So ya can’t judge me.” Kiyoomi flinched slightly. He looked away, shaking his head. 

“I wish I was asleep.” He mumbled simply. 

“Then why don’t ya go ta sleep?” Atsumu pressed, glancing back at him. Kiyoomi bit his lip. He wanted to explain, but he was certain the other prince would laugh. He ducked his head with a sigh. 

“I don’t like the dark.” He confessed. 

“Awww, Omi-Omi, the dark isn’t so bad!” Atsumu teased with a smile. Kiyoomi glanced up, surprised to see that it was not a vicious smile, but one with kindness. He blinked. 

“But… I can’t see anything…” Kiyoomi mumbled, choosing to gloss over the fact that Atsumu had already given him a nickname. It wasn’t that important. 

“Well….” Atsumu tilted his head thoughtfully, tapping his chin. “I don’t know. I’ve never been afraid of the dark. It’s just there. Means it’s time ta sleep! Or run around without anyone knowing.”

“Huh?” Kiyoomi blinked, confused. 

“It’s peaceful! No one is botherin’ ya, and ya can just… hang out.” Atsumu explained patiently. “Like we are right now.” 

“I guess…” Kiyoomi said, staring blankly at the covers on his bed. “I still don’t know. What if someone comes and tries to kill me?” Atsumu’s eyes fluttered rapidly. 

“Repeat that.” 

“What if someone comes to kill me?” He said, slightly confused. 

“Yer in one of the most heavily guarded places in the whole world. I think ya’ll be fine.” Atsumu said with a small laugh. Kiyoomi bit his lip, still skeptical. 

“Yeah, but--”

“Tell ya what, I’ll hold yer hand all night!” Atsumu said. He crawled up and flopped down next to Kiyoomi, and reached over and gently grasped his hand. “If ya can get through the night, then ya won’t be that scared anymore!”

“Are you sure it will help?” Kiyoomi asked hoarsely. 

“Yeah!” Atsumu said with a grin. “Besides, ‘Samu will never think ta look here for me. I’ve practically won the game.” 

“Probably ‘cause you weren’t supposed to come in here.” Kiyoomi pointed out dryly. 

“Some rules were made ta be broken.” Atsumu puffed out his chest indignantly. “Besides, now I can help ya get over yer fear!” Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, but nodded anyway. The other prince had laid down on the bed, his energy already starting to lull. Kiyoomi was relatively surprised to see him yawn, considering how he had been talking a mile a minute just seconds ago. 

“Just turn off the lamp, Omi-Omi.” Atsumu said. “I won’t go anywhere.”

“Promise?” Kiyoomi asked anxiously.

“Promise.” The other prince nodded, still smiling. Kiyoomi took a deep breath and reached over, clicking off the lamp. The room was engulfed in darkness. “Just focus on yer heartbeat, Omi. Count them and yer gonna be asleep in no time.” 

“Okay.” He murmured. He shut his eyes and did as Atsumu instructed, counting off time to the steady drum of his heart. Atsumu shifted next to him, moving closer. Kiyoomi liked his warmth. His presence was calming, his words echoing in his mind. 

The dark seemed to recede. It didn’t seem so bad anymore. Kiyoomi could feel himself drifting off, and he let go. There was nothing to fear, he decided. The peace overtook him, and he fell back into sleep willingly.

When Kiyoomi woke up, Atsumu was sprawled across his bed. His hand was still intertwined with Kiyoomi’s, and he was snoring softly. Early morning light filtered in through the window, casting an orange glow across the room. 

“Atsumu.” He said, poking the other prince. “Wake up.”

“Nooo… five more minutes….” He muttered, rolling over onto his stomach. Kiyoomi sighed, and sat up. He pushed Atsumu off the bed. Atsumu yelped as he h it the ground, his eyes flying open. 

“I said to wake up.” Kiyoomi shrugged. 

“Ya didn’t hafta push me!” Atsumu protested. The other prince popped up, dusting off his pants. “How did ya sleep?”

“Good.” Kiyoomi said. “Really good.” Probably the best he had slept in a while, to be honest. Atsumu’s words resonated with him. 

“See, the dark isn’t anything ta be scared of!” Atsumu declared victoriously. “Now if ya excuse me, I hafta go find my brother and tell him I won. But I will be writing to ya if ya will let me, Omi.’

“You want to write to me?” Kiyoomi said, blinking rapidly in shock. 

“Yeah, yer fun ta talk ta!” Atsumu said, his brilliant smile returning. “Besides, I wanna make sure yer okay and that the dark doesn’t bother ya anymore.” 

“That… that would be nice.” He replied, smiling back. “I look forward to the first letter.”

“Great!” Atsumu exclaimed. “I’ll see ya later, then!” With that, the other prince slipped out the door, leaving Kiyoomi alone with his thoughts. He stared at the closed door for a moment longer, before tearing his gaze away. He pondered Atsumu’s words from the night and nodded to himself.

Kiyoomi decided he wasn’t afraid of the dark. 

It took some time to fully get over it, but he didn’t need a night light and could fall asleep now. And with time, he was grateful to the night. He got one of his best friends out of it, after all.

Atsumu kept to his word and kept close contact with him. They exchanged letters, and every time Inarizaki visited, Atsumu came too. He snuck into Kiyoomi’s chambers, and the two would stay awake long into the confines of the night.

Kiyoomi loved it. He loved the veil of freedom the darkness provided. He loved working with the night, and resting in its embrace when the time was right.

It was funny how Atsumu showed him that. 

And even when the war began years later, he never forgot the kindness he was shown. 

-

The war lasted five years. Atsumu and Kiyoomi were forbidden from contacting each other. It was an ache that could not be cured, a hole in his heart that could not be filled.

He wondered if Atsumu missed him too.

-

Miya Atsumu had not expected his morning to go as poorly as it did. 

He had known it wouldn’t be  _ great— _ after all, they’d just lost a massive war to Itachiyama. Their funds depleted, their army gone. Atsumu himself had fought, along with his brother, much to his parents’ chagrin.

Not that it mattered in the end. 

Him and Osamu survived because they  _ weren’t _ at the capital. The late king of Inarizaki was not as fortunate. He’s been killed in the attack, which already had been dubbed “Siege of the City of the Fox.” Atsumu found the name rather stupid. Too long, too extravagant. 

No point in naming their worst defeat, in his opinion. The army hadn’t been able to mobilize fast enough to stop the deaths of the monarch and hundreds of others. It led to the unconditional surrender of Inarizaki. 

Atsumu was one of the crown princes, the older only by seven mere minutes. He was in line for the throne, Osamu right behind him. His mother, who had survived, was the current Queen. The ruler, until she too died and left Atsumu the throne. 

It hurt his head to think about it. 

Not that it mattered. Inarizaki’s fragile peace with the Itachiyama Empire had been shattered, and they were engulfed in its iron fist. The Sakusa line now ruled the deep woods of Inarizaki, the land now belonging to them. 

And Atsumu was scared. His mother and older members of the royal council had been locked up in the war room for days, discussing terms with the Itachiyama delegates. She had explicitly forbidden Osamu and him from attending. 

It only made his unease worse. Something was going to happen, something big. Atsumu didn’t know what, but today was the day the terms would be locked into place. He sighed as he stared at the ceiling. He had no idea what was being given up, what was being sacrificed in the name of peace. 

Atsumu knew they couldn’t keep fighting. He knew they had to draw the line, and the death of his father just solidified that. But Atsumu had fought in the war. He watched his friends die in front of him, he watched them lose and win and cry and cheer. The front line always moved, the fighting deep into the Inarizaki woods, sometimes the Itachiyama towns, or even the borderlands of Fukurodani. 

Kita’s death was still fresh in his mind, one of the last casualties of the war. Atsumu had held him as he died. He was the captain of his squadron. He helped each of them get to safety… without telling anyone he had been fatally wounded. Atsumu remembered begging him to stay awake. He remembered his blood coating his fingers, the captain’s quiet whispers, promising everything would be okay. 

He lied. 

His father was killed a week later, and the war ended. Inarizaki surrendered, and Atsumu came home. Life changed drastically. The capital city’s flags were replaced with the gold and green of Itachiyama, the soldiers of the army he had been fighting weeks ago now the power controlling his home. 

Atsumu hated every second of it. The soldiers could treat the citizens however they wanted. And he was powerless to do anything to stop it. That was the worst part of it, he decided. The helplessness of it all hurt him worse than any blade could. 

He sighed as he prowled the hallway of the castle, heading toward the throne room. All debt would be paid, all terms met. And he had to suffer through it all, the humiliation and embarrassment. Watching the kingdom truly fall, watching the bastards from Itachiyama take everything made his stomach twinge.

Atsumu adjusted his jacket slightly. He had opted for his military uniform, and not the dress one at that. He figured looking inconspicuous would help. It also allowed him some liberty of movement  _ if  _ something were to happen. Inarizaki delegates weren’t permitted to carry guns in this meeting. It felt strange to not walk in armed; he felt too exposed, too bare. 

“Hey.” Atsumu turned, seeing his brother approach. Osamu had chosen to dress the same way, except he had his ceremonial sword hanging at his hip. A smart decision, he supposed. Clever and crafty. 

“Hey.” He responded evenly. “Are ya ready?” 

“No.” Osamu said with a sigh. “They’re just gonna humalitate us even more. Yeah, we get it, we lost the war. Now they’re showin’ up and demanding’ more of us.” Atsumu sighed, shaking his head. 

“At least we’re still here. And mom. Not like… not like dad.” He said quietly. Osamu slumped slightly, darkening at the mention of their dead father. 

“Yeah, and who knows what else they're gonna take from us.” He murmured. Atsumu closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath. He tried to calm his anxiety. He had to appear poised and calm, every bit of the warrior prince he was. 

“I guess we’ll find out.” Atsumu pushed the door open, walking in. Osamu followed suit, letting the back door shut behind him. The pair slunk up to the throne. Their mother was already there, her face iron and unreadable. She looked up as they approached, a forced smile crossing her face. 

“Hello boys.” She said with a sigh. 

“Hi Ma.” Atsumu said. Osamu dipped his head, taking his place on the left side of the throne. The queen’s eyes were downcast, exhaustion clear on her face. Dark shadows were under her eyes, and her deep brown hair was greying at the roots. Atsumu pursed his lips. 

“Ya look terrible.” He blurted out. Osamu stiffened, his eyes going wide as he glanced over at him. 

“‘Tsumu, what the fu--”

“I know.” She said, leaning back against the throne. “I am well aware, but this week has been… straining.” 

“If you had let us help--” Atsumu started, stepping forward slightly. 

“Enough, Atsumu.” The queen said tersely. “It’s over anyway.” Atsumu bit his lip sharply, forcing himself to hold his tongue. Osamu shot him a dirty look, to which he responded by sticking out his tongue. Osamu stepped forward, only to stop when the great doors began to open. Both of them snapped to attention, lifting their chins. 

A small squadron of Itachiyama soldiers swept in, followed by three delegates. A small party, one that would likely never step foot in the Inarizaki capital again. Atsumu bit back a sneer. The winners of the war looked too smug, knowing how much they enjoyed watching Inarizaki squirm. 

“Your Majesty.” One of them said coyly. They didn’t bother bowing, a blatant show of disrespect. Atsumu forced his smile to say on his face, no matter how badly he wanted to shoot one of them. “I trust everything is in order?”

“Yes.” His mother said. Her voice was oddly still, her posture rigid. “It’s all in order. The funds are ready, the new outposts plans are being drawn up, and all demands are being accommodated.” The official nodded, his eyes narrowing. 

“And… the final one?” The guards straightened up, the captain’s hand straying to his pistol. Atsumu watched them closely. Osamu tensed as well, his own hand floating to the ceremonial sword. The queen’s face paled. 

“Please reconsider.” She said, her resolve wavering slightly. 

“You know we can’t do that.” The official drawled. He nodded to the guards. “We’re ready when you are.” The queen sighed, shaking her head slightly. The Inarizaki council had gone silent, the hushed whispering stilled. They were all staring at him and Osamu, their gazes boring into them. It made him uncomfortable, the hair on the back of his neck prickling. 

“Atsumu. Please go to the center of the hall.” The queen said, her voice faint. Atsumu exchanged a glance with Osamu, his breath catching slightly, before shrugging and following her orders. The Itachiyama delegates tensed. The guards moved closer, each of them ready for a fight. He narrowed his eyes, his heart beating a little faster. The hall was oddly quiet, as if the world was waiting with baited breath for what would happen next. 

“Mother?” Atsumu said, sweat beading his brow. “What’s going on?” The queen didn’t respond, bowing her head. He glanced between the Itachiyama guards that were approaching and the Inarizaki council. None of them would meet his gaze. 

Osamu stood up sharply, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Mother. What did ya do.” He hissed out, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. The queen sighed, shaking her head. 

“It was for peace, my son. I’m sorry.” Her voice was distant as she leaned away. Atsumu took a step back. 

“Mom. What did ya do.” He said again, more forcefully. “What’s going on?”

“Parts of the terms-- part of the terms given to us by the Itachiyama…” The queen’s voice was pained, a small tremor entering it. Atsumu could hear his blood in his ears as he stared at her in mute horror. His mother breathed deeply, regaining her composer. She fixed her eyes on Atsumu. 

“Part of the terms stated that one of our princes would be given up as tribute to the Itachiyama Empire. One of them will be sent to the capital city of the empire and stay there for… for the rest of his life.” Atsumu inhaled sharply, his hands falling limply to his sides. The room stilled. His vision danced slightly, the shock nearly knocking him off his feet. 

Deep down, he knew. He knew the minute he was told to go to the center of the room and face the Itachiyama guard alone. He knew when the nobles would not look at him. He knew when his mother hardly spoke. He knew he was not coming home, he knew he was being sold off for  _ peace.  _

“W-What?” He forced out. The Itachiyama soldiers stepped closer. He flinched away. Osamu was staring numbly at the queen, who was staring ahead blankly. 

“I’m sorry, Atsumu.” She said, her voice devoid of emotion. “But you are being sent to Itachiyama.” She looked like she wanted to say more, but chose not to and sat back. Atsumu gaped at her. The nobles and other court members were deathly silent, none of them able to meet his gaze. 

“Miya Atsumu.” The brown haired captain of the Itachiyama guard said. “You’re going to have to come with us.” Atsumu took another step back. Osamu was fighting his way through the crowd, his hand wrapped around his sword. 

“What the hell?!” He shouted. “Why the fuck-why the fuck would you trade  _ Atsumu _ away?” The queen turned away from the light, her face half-hidden by the shadow. Atsumu stared at her, his throat dry. 

“Why?” He managed out. “Why do they want me, why did ya  _ agree _ ?” A wave of bitterness hit him as he stared at the council. 

“Inarizaki cannot go to war again.” The queen said hoarsely. “We had no choice but to agree to their terms.” 

“I’m yer son!” Atsumu shot back. “And ya gave me away like I’m  _ nothing _ ! They’ll kill me!” 

“Part of the arrangement ensures your safety, Atsumu.” One of the nobles said, attempting to defuse the situation. Atsumu let out a mirthless laugh. 

“Ya know they won’t do that. They’ll kill me or use me as some puppet.” He snapped back. A small silence descended over the throne room. Osamu had made it to Atsumu’s side, glaring at the soldiers and anyone else who dared approach them. 

“There’s got to be another way.” His brother insisted.

“We tried, we negotiated for  _ days,  _ but they were unyielding. We had no choice, we had to concede. Now please… just go with them.” The queen said, shaking her head. 

Atsumu was selfish. He didn’t want to go to Itachiyama. He didn’t want to be taken away, he didn’t want to be  _ used _ . The Itachiyama captain stepped forward, his hand on his gun. 

“Miya.” He said sharply. He reached forward, attending to grab his arm. 

And Atsumu, in a stroke of brilliance, jammed his elbow into the captain’s face. He heard the crunch of breaking bone beneath the blow. A grim surge of satisfaction ran through him as he stumbled back.

Osamu drew his sword, and tossed it to Atsumu. He caught it, turning it over in his hand. It wouldn’t do much against guns, but it was  _ something.  _ His brother nodded once, a small flicker of pride crossing his face. “Run.” He whispered. 

Atsumu smiled at him. He ducked down and darted for the side door, the sword extended at his side. The Itachiyama guards were shocked. The captain was on the ground, blood leaking out of his nose. He smirked slightly, knowing he did that. 

Atsumu skidded to a halt as one of the soldiers cut him off, forcing him back. He struck out with a sword, only to be blocked by the guard’s.  _ Of course they have both.  _ He hissed through his teeth, wishing in vain that he had a gun. 

He jumped back, spinning on his heels and backtracking to the main exit. He bit his lip as the soldiers began to close in. Atsumu could feel his panic rising as he backed up. He extended his sword lashing out whenever one came too close. He let out a yell as someone grabbed his arms, trying to force him to drop his weapon. 

Atsumu twisted out of the soldier’s grip, his knuckles white around his sword. He swung it forward, metal clashing with the enemy’s own weapon. He kicked out with his boot, colliding with the chest plate of the Itachiyama warrior. 

He threw himself backward, sprinting through the hall. Atsumu ducked as another soldier, only to be caught from behind. He yelped and threw his arm backward, hoping to jam whoever was holding him in the ribs. 

Atsumu wrenched one of his arms free. He swung out again, adrenaline coursing through his veins.  _ He might be able to make it _ . No one expected him to escape, no one expected him to try and run. His greatest advantage was surprise, and— 

The click of a gun caused him to still. 

“Enough.” The captain was standing again, bright red blood rolling down his face. The gun was aimed directly at Atsumu’s head. “Submit or die.” 

“I would rather die than go with you.” He spat back instantly. The captain’s gaze betrayed nothing. Instead, he lifted the gun and aimed it over his head. Atsumu followed the barrel, his eyes widening. 

Osamu was forced to his knees, his grey hair streaked with blood. His arms were forced behind his back. The other prince was staring defiantly at the other soldiers who were restraining him. 

“What about your brother?” The soldier sneered. “Are you willing to sacrifice him?” Atsumu’s mouth was dry as he glanced between Osamu and the gun. His pulse drummed in his ears, and his fists were clenched white at his side. The queen had stood up, her composure gone. 

Atsumu locked eyes with Osamu. The younger twin was trying to put on a brave face. He shook his head slightly, nodding it toward the door.  _ Go.  _ That’s what he wanted Atsumu to do. He wanted him to leave him behind, leave him to die. Atsumu bit his lip.

He couldn’t do that. He turned back to the captain and dropped the sword, kneeling down. 

“I yield.” He forced out, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

“‘Tsumu,  _ no!”  _ Osamu screamed, his struggling growing wilder. Atsumu forced himself to remain staring straight ahead, his expression blank. The captain nodded to two of the other members of the guard. 

Atsumu was hauled to his feet, his hands cuffed in front of him. The iron was cool against his wrists, tight and allowed him little mobility. The captain put the gun away and shook his head with a sigh. He managed to smirk slightly as he watched him wipe blood off of his chin. 

“This could have been much easier if you had just accepted the terms.” The queen murmured, just loud enough for Atsumu to hear. He turned slightly to stare at his mother. She was helping Osamu back to his feet, who had been released. “I thought I would lose both of my sons today.” 

“And who’s fault is that?” Atsumu fired back instantly. The queen flinched as if she had been struck. Atsumu lifted his chin, fighting back angry tears. “Yer the one who made a deal  _ behind my back.  _ How else did ya think I would react?” 

“Atsumu, please try and understand, it’s for the good of the kingdom.” His mother pleaded. Atsumu glared at her, keeping his expression hard. Osamu’s mouth was agape, horror written on his face. 

“The kingdom who just lost their king?” Atsumu spat back. “The kingdom that’s falling apart? Yeah, let’s just give away one of the heirs, that seems like a great idea.” The queen shook her head sadly, having no answer. She pulled Osamu back. His brother stared at him with wide eyes, his hand outstretched slightly. 

“‘Tsumu…” He choked out. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not yer fault.” Atsumu replied. “Just… take care of everyone, okay?” Osamu nodded, biting his lip and turning away. Atsumu felt the captain grab his arms and pull him away. The Itachiyama soldiers closed in around him, blocking his view. All he could see was the yellow and green dress uniforms, all colors of his home kingdom obscured. The doors were opened and he stepped out of the hall for what would probably be the final time. 

Atsumu could feel his breath shortening the more he thought about it. His wrists were already aching, and he could only imagine how red they would be once the restrains were removed.  _ If they were.  _ They could kill him before that ever happened. 

“In.” The captain said shortly, pointing to the waiting transport. Atsumu didn’t protest as the guards pushed him inside. The guards hooked the handcuffs to the bottom of it, restraining his movement even more. He sighed and rested his head against the wall of it. 

The captain slid in the seat across from him, pressing a towel against his still-bleeding nose. His pale brown hair was disgruntled, his eyes flashing with irritation as he stared at Atsumu. His gun was resting on his lap, easily able to be grabbed should the time come. Atsumu didn’t care. Osamu was out of immediate danger. 

“Care ta give me yer name?” He said wryly. The captain shrugged. 

“Komori Motoya.”

“The cousin of the prince?” Atsumu jolted. He remembered Kiyoomi mentioning something about him in their letters before the war. The soldier-- Komori-- glanced at him, shock running across his face briefly. 

“Yeah.” He said, narrowing his eyes. “How did you--”

“The letters.” Atsumu said simply. Komori nodded, still tense. Atsumu stiffened as the transport roared to life, the vehicle rolling forward. The vehicles were reminiscent of a different time, before the Collapse, before the Reformation. Atsumu pulled his arm up and ran his finger along the wall, feeling the iron beneath his fingertips. 

Itachiyama was not only powerful, but rich. They had no shortage of funds, and their imperialistic lifestyle gave them access to resources. Steel from Fukudorani, lumber from Inarizaki, and much more. Inarizaki didn’t have nearly as many transports as Itachiyama; further proof, in his opinion, that the war was doomed from the start.

_ We should have just paid them.  _ Atsumu felt the transport roll over the rocky terrain, each small collison sending tremors through his arms and spine. He hated to admit how hard he was clutching the chains, white-knuckled around the metal. 

Whenever he moved slightly, the soldiers tensed, raising their guns and training it on him. Atsumu rolled his eyes every single time it happened. 

“Relax, not like I can escape or anything.” He grumbled, closing his eyes. 

“You broke my nose.” Komori snapped back. “You’re a threat.”

“One you have chained to the floor of a truck. Now if ya excuse me, I’m going to take a nap. It’s been quite the emotional morning, thank ya.” Atsumu exhaled, doing his best to relax his shoulders. The soldiers didn’t respond; or at least, he didn’t hear them. He forced himself to focus on his breathing, keeping his heart rate down. 

He hated this. He hated how scared he was, he hated how he didn’t know what would happen next. The only bright spot would be seeing Kiyoomi again. Atsumu supposed it didn’t matter. Hell, it could be his fault they took him in the first place. It seemed like a shrewd idea he would have. Take the crown prince, use him until he was useless and then kill him. 

He just didn’t know. He hadn’t spoken to Kiyoomi for five years, and only the gods knew what had changed about him. 

Perhaps he could hope for one friend in a sea of wolves. 

Atsumu drifted off to a restless sleep, full of unbridled fear and apprehension for what the next day would hold. 

-

Sakusa Kiyoomi was exhausted. 

Itachiyama had been warring with Inarizaki for five years, five years in which Kiyoomi hardly slept. Now it was over. It was done, and peace could come back. 

Today was the day that everything would click. Inarizaki was no more, now just a region on a map. It belonged to Itachiyama, another kingdom fallen to their power. 

Kiyoomi glanced at his bed. Under it was a small box, filled to the brim with letters. Letters that could mark him as a traitor. Letters he had exchanged with one of the princes of Inarizaki. Letters that he had kept for five years, even though they were at war. 

He didn’t want to let go. Atsumu was someone he had enjoyed talking to. When Itachiyama declared war, all contact ceased. No letters, no communications, nothing. Kiyoomi missed the weekly letters. He missed the random stories, the updates about his week, even the way he dotted his “i’s.” It was a strange void, one that could not be filled. Which is why he threw himself into his work. Delegations, allegiances, maintaining trade… he did as much as he could for the war effort. 

He wondered that, since the war had ended, if he could start writing to the other prince again. He hadn’t heard word about him or his brother, but in this case, Kiyoomi supposed no news was good news. 

Kiyoomi stretched, shaking his head. He would find out sooner or later. He pushed open the door to his room and strode out. 

“Delegation gets back today.” His father said breezily as he passed. Kiyoomi jumped slightly, turning to face him. His face was neutral, but his eyes were sparkling slightly. “Inarizaki’s defeat is complete. They’ve been absorbed into the Itachiyama Empire. They were fools to go to war with us.” 

“Yeah.” He murmured slightly. “They were.” His father regarded him for a second longer, narrowing his eyes. 

“Are you alright, son?” He said, his voice softening slightly. Kiyoomi looked up, a forced smile on his face. 

“Yes, just tired.” He answered wearily. 

“You worked hard during the war. I’m proud of you.” The king said, patting his shoulder. Kiyoomi blinked twice, shocked by the sudden warmth his father was showing him. He broke into a real grin. 

“Thank you, father.” Kiyoomi said. “That-that means a lot to me.” His father nodded once, smiling back. The two stood silently in the hall. Kiyoomi was the youngest child, last in line for the throne. He was used to being overlooked. But these moments made it okay. He didn’t mind the shadows, because the moments in the light felt so much greater. 

“Right.” The king cleared his throat, drawing himself up. “We have to go greet the delegates.” Kiyoomi nodded with a sigh. Long, pointless conversations about how great everyone did and talking about what they got out of the surrender, and then off to edit the maps. A long, boring day. 

Kiyoomi pulled on his dress coat, buttoning up. His father had walked ahead, leaving him to finish getting ready. He didn’t mind. Skipping the procedure would have been ideal. He grumbled to himself the entire way to the throne room, stalking to the throne room. 

One of his sisters nudged him as he walked past her, grinning. Kiyoomi nodded to her as he passed. Sakusa Ena was the second in line for the throne, ahead of Kiyoomi by two years. He could care less. He had no desire to rule, and his oldest sister, Michi, would be the queen. Kiyoomi would serve as a member of the council.

It suited him. He liked the work, it kept his mind busy. 

Kiyoomi sighed, resting against the back wall of the throne room. His father and mother were already seated in their thrones, neither of them greeting him. Kiyoomi made sure his face was neutral as the doors opened. The delegates swept in, along with the guards. 

Kiyoomi spaced out almost immediately. Random back and forth, discussing the victories of the day. He yawned and resisted the urge to stretch. He studied the tapestry on the wall. 

“And the queen agreed to all the demands?” His father said, breaking Kiyoomi’s haze of thought. He turned his gaze back to the ambassadors. The head one nodded once, and stepped to the side. 

Kiyoomi inhaled sharply as the soldiers dragged something forward.  _ No. Not something. Someone. _

A face he hadn’t seen for six years, someone he hadn’t communicated with for five. Someone he thought he would never see again, now standing before the court. Hushed whispers and small laughs filled the hall as the person was forced to his knees in front of the throne. 

“Atsumu?” He breathed, his eyes widening with shock. The prince had changed since he had last seen him. His deep brown hair had been dyed a light blonde. His shoulders had broadened, his thighs more defined, and his overall demeanor was… different. He radiated strength, despite his haggard appearance. 

His hands were cuffed together, but his eyes were still alight with a fire. Kiyoomi ducked his head, trying to hide the blooming blush across his face. 

_ Hot fucking damn.  _

“Miya Atsumu.” Kiyoomi’s father said, breaking him out of his thoughts. Kiyoomi turned back and glanced between his father and Atsumu. The Inarizaki prince drew himself up slightly, coughing slightly. 

“Ya know it.” He said, spitting slightly. 

“It would serve you better to hold your tongue, boy.” The king said coldly. “And just listen.” Atsumu glared at his father, but kept his mouth shut, drawing back slightly. Kiyoomi watched closely, his heart beating faster. It occurred to him that he had no idea what was going to happen next. For all he knew, he could be about to watch Atsumu die. 

Kiyoomi took a deep breath. No, they would have killed him in Inarizaki. He had no clue why he was here. All he could do was observe.

“As part of the arrangement, you will be living here. You will not leave the palace grounds. And you will do exactly what we tell you to do.” His father said. Kiyoomi exhaled slightly. Atsumu wouldn’t die, not yet. 

“I won’t be yer puppet.”  _ Or maybe he would.  _ Kiyoomi winced slightly, biting his lip. He wanted to beg him to  _ shut up  _ and accept it. He didn’t want him to die, and he was teetering on the line between life and death. 

“You don’t have a choice.” The king said. Kiyoomi watched the exchange with baited breath. Atsumu was still glaring at the royal family, his eyes flickering with anger. 

“Or what, ya’ll kill me?” Atsumu said, lifting up his head defiantly. “Seems preferable.” 

“If I recall correctly, you have a brother.” Kiyoomi watched the blood drain from his face, and his spine stiffen. Atsumu bit his lip, but bowed his head in defeat. 

“Fuck you.” He spat. “I hope you burn in hell.” His father didn’t react, the king simply waving his hand and dismissing him. The guards grabbed his arms and pulled him away. 

Kiyoomi was shocked to find that he was disappointed that he didn’t even look at him once. 

-

Kiyoomi found Komori Motoya in the first aid room. His cousin was humming to himself as he treated his injuries.  _ Wait, what?  _ Kiyoomi blinked, staring at the red stains on his clothes and face. 

“‘Toya?” He called, rapping on the door. “What the hell happened to you?” Komori looked up, waving slightly and wincing. 

“Had to go to Inarizaki.” He said simply. Kiyoomi nodded, stepping into the room. 

“And you got a broken nose?” Kiyoomi said, smirking slightly. Komori sighed, rolling his eyes. 

“That prince was… difficult ‘o handle.” Komori sighed, wrapping a bandage around his arm. He already had one across his nose. Dried blood still streaked his lip and chin. He wiped some of it off with a cloth. 

“He certainly did a number on you.” Kiyoomi said, handing his cousin the disinfectant. Komori nodded again. 

“If ‘e’d ‘ad a gun, ‘would’ve been worse.” Komori said, his voice distorted by his broken nose. “Thank the gods the delegates weren’t allowed to have ‘em.” Kiyoomi rolled his shoulders as he nodded. 

“Yeah.” He said absentmindedly, glancing out the window. Lazy clouds drifted across the blue sky. The sun was illuminating the western wing of the castle. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head thoughtfully. He wondered if Atsumu could see the sky, wherever he was in the palace. Komori paused, staring at Kiyoomi.

“‘Hat’s wrong with you?” He inquired. Kiyoomi jumped, turning to his cousin. His amber eyes were scrutinizing him, “Is this about the prince? Wait, you used to exchange letters with him before--” 

“None of your business.” Kiyoomi said coolly as he cut him off. Komori grinned, wincing slightly. 

“Awww, does Kiyoomi have a wittle crush?” He teased, poking his arm. 

“I will break your nose again.” Kiyoomi hissed out. Komori simply laughed. He snippet the gauze off and flexed his arm, humming to himself. He pulled on his jacket and walked over, patting Kiyoomi’s shoulder. 

“I can take you to his cell-- er, room if you want.” He whispered. Kiyoomi stiffened, blinking at him. A small, traitorous inkling of excitement spread through his body. 

“That would be nice.” He said quietly. Komori broke into a giant grin, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the medical wing. He shut the door softly behind him, glancing to make sure no one was following. 

“This way.” 

-

Kiyoomi stared at the door. And he stared some more. 

He’d been standing there awkwardly for six minutes. Miya Atsumu was beyond the door. And he could feel the anger radiating from behind it. He sighed, his posture slumping slightly. Atsumu had every right to be angry. He’d just been dragged away from his home, leered and laughed at by a foreign council, and thrown into a room that would serve as a prison. 

Kiyoomi wondered if he should leave. It might be better that way, if he were to leave Atsumu alone. He might prefer that. He was probably in a state of panic, his fight or flight still activated. 

Kiyoomi would either make it better or worse. 

He took a deep breath, pulling out the key Komori had given him. He slid it into the lock and turned it, stepping into the room. It was small, smaller than most other chambers in the palace. There was a bed in the center, a small night stand with a few books, and a side door leading off to what Kiyoomi guessed was a bathroom. There was no window. No other way out.

Atsumu himself was laying on the bed, his expression blank. He didn’t react when Kiyoomi shut the door, his gaze not even flitting over to look at him. His restraints hadn’t been removed; Kiyoomi frowned slightly, making a note to talk to someone about it. Atsumu may be a soldier, but he wasn’t stupid enough to try and fight off all the guards in the palace. Probably. 

“Miya.” He said after a moment, clearing his throat. The former prince looked up, his eyes flashing warily. He stood up from his spot on the bed. 

“Long time, no see Omi-omi.” Atsumu said, his tone flat. Kiyoomi winced slightly. He fixed his face quickly, the cold stare masking his emotions. 

“We’ve been at war, in case you forgot.” He said. 

“How could I forget, I fought in it  _ and  _ ended up in this dump because of it.” Atsumu said coyly, a sneer crossing his face. Kiyoomi tilted his head. He had known Atsumu fought in the battles themselves, but it was still strange to think about when Kiyoomi himself never saw the front lines.  _ He could have died.  _ He shook the thought off. 

“Well, I was busy making sure our soldiers didn’t starve and had decent battle plans.” He shot back, crossing his arms. Atsumu scoffed, bitterness clear on his face. 

“Oh, yeah, the soldiers that killed my best friend.” He hissed, pain briefly flashing in his eyes. Kiyoomi forced himself not to inquire further, not to press the subject. 

“That’s not fair. It was a war. People die.” He hated how cold his voice was. He hated how defensive he felt he had to be, how he couldn’t relax. 

“Why the fuck are you being so friendly?” Atsumu spat. He sat back down on the bed, purposely keeping his cuffed hands in view. A reminder to Kiyoomi. He stared blankly at the iron, before shaking his head and locking lines with him.

“Excuse me?” He said, lifting his chin. 

“Wake up,  _ Sakusa. _ We were in a war. Your soldiers killed my best friend and my father. Your cousin dragged me away from my home. Your family took  _ everything  _ from me. I’m not your friend.” Atsumu said, his voice rising. Kiyoom took an involuntary step back, flinching again. Everything he said was true, and it cut like a knife. 

“My kingdom won. My family won. You lost, Atsumu. These are the consequences.” Kiyoomi retorted.

“Thanks,  _ Omi _ . Really needed a reminder.” The blonde said dryly, laying against the bed. Kiyoomi remembered holding his hand when they were ten, how he helped him get through his fear. And now Kiyoomi couldn’t do the same, he couldn’t help him. They were opposites, and had to remain that way. They couldn’t be friends, they couldn’t even be mutuals. Atsumu was the enemy, and he clearly didn’t want to reforge any bond either.

“You’re insufferable.” Kiyoomi spat, his anger rising. 

“Get out of here.” Atsumu said, turning away. Kiyoomi stepped toward the door, forcing himself to look away from the fallen prince. 

“With pleasure.” He tore open the door and strode out, not looking back. He made it down the hall before pausing. Kiyoomi took deep breaths, shaking his head slowly. Atsumu was hurting, and he just made it worse.  _ Stupid.  _ He cursed himself. 

And yet he kept walking. It wasn’t meant to be, and nothing would change that. 

-

Kiyoomi didn’t visit Atsumu for another week. 

He felt it was best to stay away, since their last conversation had ended so poorly. He didn’t want to escalate anything. He had heard through Komori that he was refusing to eat, and had to force-given water. 

Kiyoomi wished he could help. He wished he could find the courage to speak to him again, but after the disaster of last time, he just  _ couldn’t.  _ He had to lay more foundation, ease him into it. 

Maybe then things would start to go better. Maybe Atsumu would start to adjust better, be a little happier. Kiyoomi wanted that for him, and he would try to give it to him. 

The idea struck him in the middle of a council. Kiyoomi found the affairs boring. He stared out the window, listening to people drawl on and on about things he honestly didn’t care about. He held his tongue, not wanting to be lectured about the importance of being respectful and paying attention to everything again, even if none of it had anything to do with him or his life. 

The sky was cloudless that day, the sun beating down on the palace. Kiyoomi would bolt out of the meeting, running to feel the beams on his arms, and breathe the fresh air. He felt trapped here, boxed in-- 

_ Like Atsumu was.  _ Kiyoomi jumped at the sudden thought. He sighed, wanting to push it away. He paused. 

_ Wait.  _

Atsumu hadn’t been let out of his room since he got to Itachiyama. He had been locked in the lavish prison, kept away like a bird in a cage. He hadn’t seen the outside world for a week, with no window to even mark the passing of time. 

_ No wonder he’s so pissed off.  _ Kiyoomi remembered Atsumu as someone who needed to run around, his energy expansive. He was probably losing his mind in the room, unable to do anything but pace the room. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe if he could walk around, even for a little bit, it would help curb the boredom. 

When the meeting was dismissed, Kiyoomi had a plan. He would present it to his father as soon as he ran it by Komori, his cousin being the most knowledgeable about the situation of them all. He combed through the halls, searching for him. He finally found him outside the guards’ room, likely on break. 

“Komori, can I speak to you for a moment?” Kiyoomi asked, walking up to his cousin. The captain smiled and nodded. 

“What’s up? Wait, let me guess-- you want to know how Atsumu is doing.” Komori said, snickering slightly. “He’s as irritable as usual--”

“Yes but no.” Kiyoomi interrupted. “I had an idea to help with that, actually.”

“Do tell.” Komori said, yawning slightly. 

“What if he was allowed outside of the room?” Kiyoomi said to Komori. “Like… even just on a walk. It might help his attitude, to see the sun and get a change of scenery.”

“You might be onto something, couz.” Komori tilted his head, nodding. “But why do you care so much? Is it because--”

“Do not.” Kiyoomi cut him off, raising a hand. Komori shut his mouth, the smirk on his face remaining. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat, pressing on. “I’m gonna present it to father.”

“Now?” Komori said, narrowing his eyes. 

“Why the hell not.” Kiyoomi lifted his chin, as he turned around and pushed open the room to the throne room. His father looked up. 

“Kiyoomi?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Do you need something?”

“I have an idea in regards to Atsumu.” He blurted out. The king sighed, rubbing his temples. 

“Gods know we need a miracle in regards to that bastard.” He said bitterly. Kiyoomi kept his expression neutral, although he wanted to mention that they had dragged him away from his home and everything he cared about. “What do you propose?”

“Let him out of his room.” The king looked appalled, opening his mouth to reply. Kiyoomi cut him off quickly. “Not unsupervised. But just… take him for a walk, or something.” His father paused, sitting back against the throne. 

“You think letting him roam the palace will help?” The king asked, his eyebrows raised slightly. Kiyoomi nodded.

“He might be more compliant if he’s treated more… like a guest.” Kiyoomi said carefully. The king tilted his head thoughtfully.

“You have a point.” The king begrudged. “Are you sure he won’t try and get away?” 

“I can’t guarantee that.” Kiyoomi admitted. “But I can help supervise him.” The king sighed, shaking his head. 

“Very well.” He conceded. “I trust your judgement, Kiyoomi. If you think this will help coax him to our side, then do what you must.”

“Thank you, father.” Kiyoomi said, grinning slightly. He forced his face back to resting, the stoic expression returning. The king nodded once, dismissing him with the flick of his hand. 

Komori was waiting for him outside as Kiyoomi exited the throne room. He perked up immediately, examining him closely. “Well?”

“He approved.” Kiyoomi said simply. Komori nudged his shoulder.

“That’s great!” He exclaimed, beaming. “Of course he would approve. It’s quite smart, y’know. Treat him better, get more out of it.”

“Yeah.” Kiyoomi said with a small nod. “Yeah it is.” Atsumu would like this, he hoped. A change of scenery.  _ And a chance for us to talk again.  _

Kiyoomi hoped it worked. He hoped Atsumu would drop his shell, and would speak to him again. He missed their little talks and the letters. Perhaps this could be the first step back, the first step to recovery. 

-

Atsumu was surprised to see Kiyoomi at his door again. He hadn’t seen anyone but his guards for two weeks (he thought that, at least; he had no method of keeping time. Everything was blurring together). 

When Kiyoomi arrived, he had no idea what to say. Last time had gone horribly, with Atsumu finally snapping and his anger overflowing. He felt slightly bad about it; but everything he said was true.

But Kiyoomi was the last person he wanted to say it to.

“Hey Omi.” He said after a moment. “Ya look good.” And he meant it.

Kiyoomi’s hair was still the dark black, but it had started to curl more, framing his face rather than obscuring it. He’d also gotten taller. His onyx eyes shone in the light, and the two moles on his forehead were beautiful, in his opinion.  _ No, not just that. Kiyoomi is beautiful. _

Atsumu forced himself to stop thinking about it. He couldn’t go falling for the prince. He was standing between him and his home. 

_ But that didn’t change the past.  _ The letters were seared into his mind. Their history, and the blatant crush Osamu had teased him about for years, until the war. 

It seemed that old feelings didn’t die. 

“Hello Atsumu.” Kiyoomi regarded him for a moment, glancing him up and down. “You look like shit.” Atsumu opened his mouth the retort, but sighed. 

“I know. That happens when ya don’t see the sun for weeks.”

“Fair.” Kiyoomi hummed. The tension that the last visit held was gone, both of them seeming to have calmed down. Atsumu had decided he didn’t want to fight with Kiyoomi; at least, not yet. He had no real reason to be hostile. 

“So what brings ya ta my prison, Omi?” He asked, leaning back. The iron on his wrists shifted slightly, rubbing against the skin. He winced. 

“To take you to see the sun.” Kiyoomi said simply. “Come on. We’re going for a walk.” Atsumu blinked at him, slightly shocked. 

“Oh?” He said, sitting up. “Why?” Kiyoomi shrugged. 

“Thought you might enjoy it.” He said simply. “Let’s go.”

“Right now?” Atsumu said, standing up. 

“No, tomorrow. Yes right now, dumbass.” Kiyoomi said with a small eye roll. He extended his hand. “Come on.” Atsumu reached forward and took it, allowing the prince to pull him to his feet. He was slightly disappointed when the restraints weren’t removed, but he understood. He was a prisoner, plain and simple, and a dangerous one. 

Atsumu was hesitant when he stepped outside the room. He hadn’t been brought out of it since he arrived here. And when he’d been initially put in the room, his senses had been too overwhelmed to try and process the Itachiyama castle. 

Kiyoomi motioned for him to follow. Atsumu complied after a heartbeat of hesitation, feeling the cold air of the main halls hit his face. He breathed deep, enjoying the small peace. 

Komori Motoya was standing nearby. He stepped forward when Atsumu exited, his face neutral. He smiled over at Kiyoomi, leaning forward and whispering something in his ear. Kiyoomi pushed him away, snapping something inaudible back. The captain just laughed. 

“Come on.” Kiyoomi said again to Atsumu. 

“Are there any guards?” He asked, glancing around in confusion. Kiyoomi shook his head.

“Just you and me.” He began to walk. Atsumu blinked rapidly, shrugging and jogging to catch up. 

The palace was expansive, the grey walls arcing high above their heads. Servants ran past, and sometimes a noble would stride past, a haughty air surrounding them. Atsumu kept pace with Kiyoomi, doing his best to take in everything about the palace. Every little detail, he wanted to memorize. It was a daunting task, and already he could feel the lines blurring. 

He glanced over at Kiyoomi. His lips were pursed, eyes glazed over slightly, as if he was deep in thought. Atsumu cleared his throat again, wringing his hands together. He stopped immediately when the metal on his wrists clashed together. He winced, hating the sound. Kiyoomi glanced over at him expectantly.

“So…” He said awkwardly. “How’ve ya been?” Atsumu wanted to take back the words immediately. Kiyoomi was probably fine. Winner of the war, someone who didn’t see the front lines. 

It was funny, how Atsumu never got a chance to recover after all the things he saw. He held people as they died, whispered final goodbyes and rites as they left the world. He saw soldiers lose their arms and legs, or go blind or deaf, or suffer some other horrendous injury.

And yet he came back whole. The only thing damaged with his soul. 

Atsumu wanted to take time to reflect on it. But he was thrust headfirst into this new world, one where he had to walk on his toes. He hated how scared he was, how he didn’t know what was coming next. It was the uncertainty of it all. 

“I’ve been okay.” Kiyoomi said, disrupting his thoughts. “I missed your letters. It...It was lonely here.” 

“Oh.” Atsumu managed out. “I’m sorry.” It was awkward, the pauses between sentences and the silence that filled the gap. 

“Don’t be.” Kiyoomi responded instantly. “We were at war. I was busy, you were busy, and communications were blocked.”

“Yeah.” Atsumu said. He sighed, shaking his head. “That damn war.” 

“Can I ask you something?” Kiyoomi said, tilting his head slightly. Atsumu paused. He nodded once, waiting for him to continue. “Who… who was your best friend? The one… who…” 

“Died?” Atsumu supplied. He was slightly taken aback by the question. He took in a shuddering breath as his heart clinched painfully. “Kita Shinsuke. He was a year older than me. He was the captain of the battalion I served in.”

“I didn’t realize you didn’t command one.” Kiyoomi murmured. Atsumu shook his head. 

“Nah, I was just another soldier. I wanted to do my part as a fighter, not sitting on my ass in some tent.” He explained. “Same with ‘Samu. We had a nice group. Me, Osamu, Sunarin, Aran, Ginjima, Akagi… Kita led us. He was really damn smart. Could outfox anybody. Until he didn’t.” He let out a mirthless laugh. 

“What… what happened?” Kiyoomi asked, his voice quiet. Atsumu stared blankly at his handcuffs, the memory sharp and stinging. He closed his eyes briefly, before looking back at the prince.

“It was supposed ta be a routine check-up. The borderlands had been quiet, and Command wanted ta see what was up.” He started, his voice wavering. “Turns out Itachiyama— ya guys— were waiting. They had been waiting for some poor little patrol to pounce on, gods know why. So they ambushed us. Took us  _ completely  _ off guard. It was chaos, what had happened. Kita regained his senses quickly enough to get us out. Ordered us ta run ta the river. We all made it.” 

Kiyoomi was still silent, his eyes flashing slightly. Atsumu could feel the familiar tears in his eyes. He forced it down. He couldn’t grieve in front of anyone, not here. It wasn’t safe to expose his heart, to show where it hurt. 

“Kita looked at us all, and said ‘I’m proud of you boys’ before collapsing into the river. I remember holding him while he died, begging him ta stay awake. He didn’t.” Atsumu continued, his voice flat. “And a week later, we got the memo about the capital assault, and my dad dying. And then I ended up here not even a full month after Kita’s death.” 

He looked back up, locking eyes with the prince. Kiyoomi was still silent, his face slightly pale. He was stricken by the story, it was clear on his face. Atsumu pursed his lips.

“That’s what the front lines were like. Ya didn’t know when yer name would become just another record in the lists of casualties.” 

“My gods.” Kiyoomi whispered. 

“Yeah.” Atsumu said uncomfortably. “It’s… it’s a lot to process.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Kiyoomi blurted. “I had no idea.” 

“How could ya?” Atsumu smiled sadly. “That battle was a victory for yer side.” Kiyoomi stilled completely. Atsumu faintly wondered if he had gone too far. Kiyoomi bowed his head.

“I still— I can’t even fathom—“ 

“It hurts.” Atsumu said simply. “Waking up hurts. But I do it anyway, ‘cause it’s my job. ‘Samu is counting on me to stay in line, and I won’t let him die ‘cause I can’t swallow the pain and march on.”

“I wish I could help.” Kiyoomi said helplessly. “I’m sorry, Atsumu.” 

“Were you the one who brought me here?” He asked quietly. 

“No.” Kiyoomi replied instantly. “I had no idea what was happening until you showed up.”

“Okay.” Atsumu said simply. “Then just… I don’t know, talking helped I guess.” 

“That’s good.” Kiyoomi managed. The silence had returned, neither of them speaking. Atsumu sighed, trying to shake off his sudden bout of sadness. 

“Can we go back now?” He asked. Funny, he never thought he would say those words. Asking to go back to his prison. But he needed to think, to be alone for a moment. Kiyoomi nodded.

“I’ll take you.” The prince said, guiding him away from the hall. Atsumu walked in silence, his mind blank. He felt numb. 

But also… happy. Kiyoomi hadn’t laughed at him. He’d listened, and he understood. He  _ helped _ him. 

The feeling in his chest was back, the blooming crush still there. He wanted to squish it down, but it refused to leave. 

It didn’t matter, he supposed. One more thing to torture him in this hellhole would hardly make a difference. 

Kiyoomi opened the door to his room. Komori was still there, leaning against the wall. He nodded to them as they passed. Kiyoomi gestured for him to follow them in. Atsumu stared at them. 

“What?” He asked slowly.

“Captain Komori?” Komori looked up. Atsumu didn’t miss the glance exchanged between Kiyoomi and him, the silent nod shared. “Remove his restraints. He can’t get out, so there’s no need to keep them on.” 

“As you command, my prince.” Komori walked over and unlocked the iron around Atsumu’s wrists. He took them off and Atsumu stared in slight shock. His skin was noticeably paler now, the cuffs having rubbed the skin raw and kept them away from the sun. He gently massaged his wrists, enjoying the small freedom.

“Thank you.” He managed out. Kiyoomi shrugged. 

“It was the least I could do.” He said. 

“Will… will you visit again?” Atsumu asked hesitantly. Kiyoomi looked slightly surprised. 

“Yes. I’ll be back, same time tomorrow.” He nodded once and exited the room. Komori followed, whistling to himself as he shut the door. The lock clicked back into place, and Atsumu was alone again. 

A slow grin spread across his face.  _ Two victories.  _

He walked over to his bed, stretching his shoulders and arms, moving them to their full range of motion. With his hands released, he could do some training again. Another step in the plan, another factor he could use to his advantage. 

He may have gotten free of his shackles, but the weight was still there. One wrong move, and he would be back to square one. He had to be careful, proceed with caution. 

Atsumu was a prince of Inarizaki. The slyest of the kingdoms. He would figure a way out. He could outfox any of them. 

It was just a matter of time.

-

“Someone has a crush.” Komori said to Kiyoomi one day. It was a month after the walking had started. And Kiyoomi could no longer deny how much he  _ liked  _ liked Atsumu. The way he laughed, the way he smiled, and even the serious moments with him he treasured. 

He was getting in deep. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. 

“What are you going to do about it?” Komori asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. 

“Nothing.”  _ Yet.  _

-

After three months of walking the ground and sitting in  _ the  _ room, Atsumu was finally given the message that he would be attending one of the feasts. 

He had no idea why. Probably to say some shit about Itachiyama being a great place to live and be a part of. Atsumu snorted at the mere thought. 

He was given a simple dress uniform to wear. It was in Inarizaki colors, the black and maroon of the outfit reminding him of home. Atsumu couldn’t decide if it was meant to mock him or a genuine show of thoughtfulness. 

Probably the former. 

Kiyoomi didn’t visit him that day, nor was he allowed to walk around the palace grounds. He paced his room all day, his anxiety bleeding through slightly.

He had been given almost no information about the event tonight. What was he supposed to do? What if he made a mistake?  _ Would they hurt Osamu or Sunarin or Aran or—  _ Atsumu cut his thoughts off, shaking his head. 

It would be okay. It had to be. He would do what the king asked, and it would be fine, that’s what he said.

Atsumu wanted to slam his head against a wall. Nothing was fine. He was a puppet. His strings were being pulled by someone else, his movements and speech belonging to someone else.

It all clicked. He was not expected to do anything but sit there. He was the prize of a hunt. Atsumu was a trophy, a show of strength. If Inarizaki had been forced into giving up one of their heirs, what  _ couldn’t  _ Itachiyama do?

Atsumu felt bile rising in his throat. He was disgusted, but couldn’t show it. He had to put on the mask of the obedient little dog, the broken prince. For the sake of the survivors, of his old home.

_ Someday he would be free.  _ The first step was making it through tonight. 

The guards came to collect him at what he assumed was the evening. Atsumu didn’t protest, slipping into the guise of exhaustion and brokenness with ease. He kept his head down as they walked, his eyes half closed. 

The ballroom was crowded, nobles and the rich flocking from all over. Atsumu bit back a sneer. The extravagance of it all was amusing. Inarizaki rarely threw lavish parties, and even then, never to this extent. It was amusing in a way to see this.

Atsumu was immediately taken to the table, brought to his seat. He was seated away from Kiyoomi. He tried not to sigh. He knew he wouldn’t be near him; after all, he was royal, and had to be with the rest of the family. Atsumu was barely counted as anything more than a prisoner. 

Still, the familiarity would have been welcome. 

He could feel the gazes following him as he was escorted to his seat. He didn’t miss the tension in the guards’ postures, how their hands tightened around their weapons.

Atsumu was surprised they didn’t put him in handcuffs again and be done with it. 

Atsumu stayed silent. The Itachiyama court members all but ignored him, choosing to cast him estranged glances or throw whispers in his direction. He tuned them out, doing his best to act bored. 

But the stares were like venom, leaching into his skin and digging deep. Each one made him shudder a little more, shy away. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want the attention he was receiving. He didn’t know when the mask slipped into reality, and despair began to churn at his insides. 

Atsumu could feel his breath shortening. He focused on his hands, trying to ignore the stares on his back and the whispers surrounding him. His leg was spasming wildly under his table, jolting as the people around him continued to gossip quietly.

Atsumu felt like he was on display. A prize to be shown, that’s all he was. Was he even human anymore? What was he besides a puppet? Someone was holding his strings, keeping him close and making him dance when all he wanted to do was run. He had no control, nothing left of his own. 

Atsumu gasped for air, digging his nails into his arm.  _ He could not break down here.  _ He couldn’t even focus on the food placed in front of him. All it did was nauseate him even more, his stomach churning. He wanted to stand up, but knew that if he did, it would result in consequences for him, for Osamu, for the people he cared about. 

So he continued to sit, staring blankly at the table. Atsumu was hardly breathing, each breath a stab in his gut. Tears burned at the edge of his vision, black spot dancing in his eyes. He bit his lip so hard it drew blood, the metallic taste flooding his mouth. 

_ He wasn’t human.  _

_ He wasn’t human.  _

_ HE WASN’T HUMAN.  _

Atsumu could practically see the red strings on his arms, a tight leash constricting him until he eventually suffocated and died. 

He wanted to go home. He missed the forests of Inarizaki, he missed his room, he missed Osamu, he missed  _ everything.  _

The first tear broke free and rolled down his face. Atsumu sucked in a sharp breath.  _ No, this couldn’t happen, he couldn’t--  _

“Atsumu.” A voice said.  _ Kiyoomi, what did he want now _ ? “Can I borrow you for a moment?” He didn’t bother looking up as the prince grabbed his arm and pulled him up. He followed numbly, letting himself be guided somewhere. A wave of cold air hit his face. They were outside the hall, out of danger. Atsumu blinked, confused. He didn’t care in the end. He dropped to his knees and he sobbed. 

Kiyoomi was rubbing his back, murmuring words he couldn’t make out. He tried to get his breathing under control, only for another cry break free. Atsumu wanted to lay down and pass out. His arms were still shaking, but he managed to stay in a kneeling position. 

“Atsumu, breathe.” Kiyoomi commanded, his voice gentle yet sharp. “You’re okay. No one’s going to hurt you.” Atsumu clutched his arms, his legs shaking. 

“Y-ya don’t know that.” He stuttered slightly. “They could be-be waiting ta-ta kill—“

“No one will harm you while I’m here.” Kiyoomi said quietly. “You’re safe with me, I promise. No one is looking for us, it’s just you and me.” 

Atsumu nodded, still struggling to breathe.  _ Human, human, human, I am alive, I am human.  _ He had to keep repeating those words, his anchor. 

If only he believed them. 

“Am I human, Omi?” He asked quietly. “Or am I just a puppet to be used and cast aside?” Kiyoomi blinked at him, his eyes flickering with shock and pain.

“Atsumu, look at me.” He gingerly nudged Atsumu’s cheek with his fingers, and he turned toward him. His onyx eyes were sincere as he spoke. “You are so much more than a puppet. You are human. You’re good and brave, and you would do anything for your family. You’re one of the best humans of all.” 

“I don’t want to be used.” Atsumu whispered. “I don’t want--”

“I know.” Kiyoomi murmured. “I wish I knew what to say, but I… I don’t. But I am here for you, Atsumu. I know…. I know it’s strange, but I don’t want to-- I am  _ not  _ your enemy.” 

“I don’t want to be your enemy, Omi.” Atsumu said softly. “Can we be friends?” 

“I would like that a lot.” Kiyoomi murmured, smiling softly. Atsumu smiled back, his heart rate finally decreasing. The two stood silently for a moment. Atsumu blinked at Kiyoomi, doing his best  _ not  _ to think about how, under any other circumstance, he would want to be more than friends.

And the fact that he kinda wanted to be “more than friends” anyway.

Atsumu cleared his throat awkwardly. He shook the thoughts off. Not now, he decided. Maybe someday. 

“I should go.” He said quickly. “I don’t think anyone will notice my absence at this point.” 

“I’ll take you back to your room.” Kiyoomi offered. “No one will notice if I’m gone either.” Atsumu’s heart leapt slightly. 

“That… sounds nice.”

Kiyoomi helped him to his feet and escorted him down the halls. He didn’t say anything as the two entered Atsumu’s room. Atsumu beelined for the bed and laid down on it immediately. Exhaustion filled him, the emotional strain of the day wearing on him. 

“Good night, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi said after a moment. Atsumu lifted his head slightly. 

“Wait.” He called nervously. Kiyoomi paused. 

“Yes?”

“Stay with me?” Atsumu asked quietly. “I’m scared.” Kiyoomi smiled sadly and walked back over. He sat down at the foot of the bed. 

“Of the dark?” He asked. “Because I remember a certain prince helping me get over my fear years ago.” Atsumu jolted slightly. He hadn’t expected Kiyoomi to bring up their past, the one night they spent together. When they became friends, thinking that the world was theirs and that it would forever be the same. Before the war, before everything shattered. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. 

“Well.” Kiyoomi started, scooting closer. “Just take my hand, and count your heart beats, and you’ll be asleep in no time.” Atsumu hesitantly grasped his hand, their fingers weaving together. Kiyoomi laid down next to him, and Atsumu couldn’t help but curl closer. 

“Good. Now close your eyes, and rest.” Kiyoomi instructed, his voice gently. Atsumu complied, exhaling softly and letting his eyes shut. A semblance of peace washed over him, and his limbs relaxed, the tension finally releasing. 

Atsumu fell asleep with his head resting on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, hands intertwined. 

It wasn’t home. It never would be, but at least he could start to be a little happy. 

-

Kiyoomi wanted to court Atsumu. 

He wanted to love him. 

Gods, he was falling too far, too fast. He dreamt about holding his hand, about spending every minute with him. He thought it would be nice to fall asleep next to him. It was funny how quickly his crush came back to life, and how it refused to let him go. 

Ever since the feast, Atsumu had opened up to him more. He actively sought him out now, opening up to him more and more. They spent more time together. Kiyoomi had little to do around the palace, as he wasn’t trained to be a king and the war was over. No plans for him to draw up, no battles to plan. 

So he spent the time with Atsumu, and he embraced every second of it with pleasure. 

Slowly, the old side of him returned. He became a little more bubbly, at least around him. He spoke to him willingly, initiating conversations. He ate a little more, and stayed out longer with Kiyoomi. His health was improving, slowly but surely. His skin was less pale, and his eyes rejuvenated with life. 

Not only that, but he was flirting. Sending him gazes that sent him to the moon, sitting closer and closer to him, and saying perfectly timed, what could be taken with romantic implications. 

And Kiyoomi was falling for him more and more. 

He decided he had to make a move. 

Except he had no idea how. Komori told him he should just phrase it bluntly, and just go for it. It’s not like he had anything to lose; he might as well shoot his shot.

The day was beautiful, the sun shining down brightly. The yellow rays made Atsumu’s hair look even more vibrant, the gold shining in the light. Kiyoomi couldn’t take his eyes off of him. He said something he couldn’t discern, and proceeded to laugh, the sound like a melody as it carried through the air. 

Kiyoomi’s fingers twitched slightly. He wanted to be the one to make him laugh. He took a deep breath as Atsumu turned to him. 

“What’s wrong Omi? Ya’ve been acting weird.” Atsumu tilted his head, his amber eyes shining with curiosity.  _ This was it.  _

“Can I date you?” He asked point blank. Atsumu froze, but then looked at him, his eyes glittering with hope. 

“Is that legal?” The blonde said slowly, furrowing his brow. 

“I don’t know.” Kiyoomi shrugged. “Don’t care.” 

“Well, either way, please do.” Atsumu said with a small smile. Kiyoomi’s heart leapt. He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. 

“I didn’t expect it to be this easy.” Kiyoomi admitted. Atsumu laughed, shaking his head slightly. 

“I’ve had a crush on ya since I was kid.” He said, rubbing the back of his head. “And it never really went away.” 

“Yeah. Same.” Kiyoomi agreed. Atsumu whipped his head up to stare at him. 

“What?” He asked, laughing slightly. “Yer kidding.” 

“When you snuck into my room… I dunno. I thought about it a lot, and when we started exchanging letters, I realized I might have had feelings for you. And… all of this…” Kiyoomi gestured around, trailing off. Atsumu winced, his gaze darkening slightly. He sighed, shaking his head.

“I can’t say I like the situation I’m in.” The blonde admitted, a small pang of sadness crossing his eyes. 

“I know.” Kiyoomi murmured. 

“But I do like you, Omi. And I wouldn’t mind being with ya. And I wouldn’t say no ta a kiss right about now.” 

And so Kiyoomi kissed Atsumu, his hand buried in his hair. The blonde leaned into him, his eyes shut. Atsumu reciprocated, grasping his back. The two stood together, in the hallway, with barely a word exchanged. 

“I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn.” Kiyoomi whispered when they broke apart. “I promise. I will keep you safe.” Atsumu nodded, keeping his head on Kiyoomi’s chest.” 

He hoped he could keep it. Kiyoomi hated promises. They always fell short, always were broken. He rarely made them. 

But this one felt right.  _ He would not break it.  _

-

Atsumu was now forced to attend court meetings. 

He was to listen in, see what was going on, and hear what was happening in his homes. It was more a yawnfest then anything, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Plus he got to spend more time with Kiyoomi, which was always a positive. 

Him and Kiyoomi had been courting for a few weeks; and Atsumu could say he had fallen hard. He wished the circumstances were better. If only he could have pursued his childhood crush differently, in a world where the war had never happened.

He shook it off. He could not dwell in what ifs; he still had a life to lead, one that was moving forward, not back. 

They could share hushed whispers together, hold hands in the shadows of the court. No one paid him or Kiyoomi any attention. 

For the most part, anyway. 

When Inarizaki was brought up, it was a guarantee that someone would look at him. Atsumu would keep his chin up and stare ahead. Kiyoomi would keep their hands loosely intertwined, keeping him anchored to reality. 

Everything seemed to shatter one day. It took one news report to break everything.

Atsumu had settled into a semblance of a routine. He had been left alone, not used as anything but a trophy for months. He had learned to live with it, and Kiyoomi was there to help him through it. 

It was too good to last, he supposed in the end. Something would break.

“Your majesty.” The messenger of the day bowed low to the ground. Atsumu stifled an eyeroll, leaning against the wall. Kiyoomi was standing next to him, both of them in the shadows. Neither of them deemed important enough to stand on the right or left of the chair itself. The third heir and the disgraced prince. 

Quite the pair they made. 

“You said you had to meet with us immediately?”

“North Bay was attacked.” Atsumu’s eyes widened slightly. He bit back a small smile.  _ Someone was bold.  _ Kiyoomi was rigid next to him, concern flashing in his eyes. Atsumu wished he could be worried too. He loved Kiyoomi, but he hated Itachiyama. 

It was a paradox, but he supposed he didn’t have to figure it out for a while. 

“What?” The king leaned forward, shock coloring his voice. “Did Shiratorizawa finally make a move?” The messenger shook their head slowly. 

“No…” They started, looking uncomfortable. “It.. It was Inarizaki.” Atsumu stood up sharply, his breath catching. Already the stares of the court members were finding their way to him. Kiyoomi’s grip on his hand tightened. 

“Inarizaki.” The king glanced at Atsumu, his hand tightening around the armrest of his throne. He turned back to the messenger. “Does the queen know?”

“No. This was the work of nationalist rebels, your highness.” The messenger said. The king nodded slowly. 

_ Rebels?  _ Atsumu blinked, glancing back at the king. The ruler was still staring straight ahead, his posture rigid and tense. Atsumu instinctively drew back. Inarizaki rebels… Atsumu was both proud and nervous. He would receive the brunt of the blows, punished for the actions of the freedom fighters.

And yet he was okay with it. He wanted his homeland to be free again, and would play his part if it meant that could become reality. 

“Who are they supporting?” The king leaned forward. Atsumu stiffened once more, his breath hitching. Kiyoomi inhaled sharply next to him, shifting to stand in front of him. The messenger cast a glance in his direction before speaking again. 

“Miya Osamu, the second heir. They wish to place him on the throne as soon as possible, as the reports indicate.” The messenger continued, his voice even. Kiyoomi breathed a sigh of relief, but Atsumu remained tense, waiting to hear what the king said in response. 

“So kill him.” The king said, narrowing his eyes. “If Inarizaki cannot accept the transition of power, cut off the one they wish to crown.” Atsumu stepped forward immediately, breaking through the crowd and cutting past Kiyoomi. The prince reached forward and grabbed his arm. He shook it off. 

“Ya promised my brother would be safe!” Atsumu snapped. The king and messenger both turned to him, along with most of the members of the court. He ignored them, his gaze locked with the ruler. 

“He is an usurper, and must be punished.” The king said simply. As if he was talking about the weather, not his brother’s life. 

“He hasn’t done shit!” Atsumu shot back, stepping forward. The guards tensed around the king, but he elected to ignore them. 

“But--” The ruler started. 

“Miya Osamu has been missing for two weeks.” The messenger interjected. Atsumu rounded on them, balling his hands into fists.

“What.” He said, his voice low. 

“Miy-- Osamu disappeared from the Inarizaki capital a week before the attack on the Northern Bay. It is unknown if he was involved in it or not.” The king was silent for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Atsumu felt bare beneath his gaze, his heart thudding in his chest. His mouth felt dry as he continued to face the king, his chin lifted defiantly. 

“Atsumu, it’s time for you to prove your worth.” The ruler said finally. 

“What?” He asked, his pulse drumming in his ear. 

“You will give a broadcasted speech. You will get your people to stand down.” The king said coldly. Atsumu stared at him in shock and horror, not believing his ears. 

“You have no leverage over me.” He said with a sneer. “And I have no reason to do it.” 

“We can make you do it. Tell you what, I’ll give you three days to ponder it and get back to me. If you decline, there will be grave consequences.” The king dismissed him with a flick of his wrist. Kiyoomi was back at his side, grasping his arm and tugging him toward the back exit. Atsumu was shaking with anger, the weight of the situation continuing to slam into him like a tsunami.

“Are you okay?” Kiyoomi asked once they made it to the halls. Atsumu stopped walking, staring at the floor. 

“What do ya think, Omi-kun?” He said with a bitter laugh. “My brother’s vanished and wanted for supposed treason, I hafta give a speech I don’t want ta give, and the king is probably gonna kill me if he can’t get his hands on Osamu. So no, Omi, I’m not okay.” Kiyoomi stared at him for a moment, before stepping forward and pulling him close. He fell into his embrace willingly, shutting his eyes and steadying his breathing. 

“I’m sorry, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi whispered. 

“Me too.” Atsumu murmured back. 

-

The next morning hurt.

Kiyoomi had held Atsumu while he cried, the stress of the situation wearing on him. He had fallen asleep in his arms, his head resting on his chest. Kiyoomi had spent the entire night awake, pondering the endless situations. 

He had no idea what to do. 

(That was a lie. He had half a notion, but it was risky.

And he was selfish, and didn’t want to let Atsumu go). 

Kiyoomi felt Atsumu stir in his arms. He glanced down at the blonde, who was opening his eyes. There was a resolve in them, a spark that had been absent the night before. Kiyoomi kissed his forehead, brushing some of his hair out of the way. 

“Morning, love.” He murmured. 

“I won’t do it.” Atsumu said almost the second Kiyoomi finished speaking. Kiyoomi blinked, shocked, still gazing down at him. The blonde was staring blankly at the wall, his head still resting on Kiyoomi’s chest. 

“What?” Kiyoomi said, sitting up. Atsumu yelped and followed him, huffing indignantly. 

“Ya just took my pillow Omi.”

“Sorry. But what aren’t you doing?” Kiyoomi smirked slightly, reclining back on the bed. 

“Giving the speech.” Atsumu said, nodding firmly. Kiyoomi blinked at him, his gut twinging painfully.  _ He has to.  _

“You're not going to give the speech?” Kiyoomi asked, staring at the former Inarizaki prince. “You know you could live a safe, lavish—“ 

“I can’t sit still anymore.” Atsumu shook his head. “I’m a prisoner, but I still… I still serve Inarizaki first and foremost. I will not yield.” Kiyoomi’s heart fluttered at the words. He bit back a sigh. Atsumu was stubborn, and it would get him hurt in the end, or worse. 

“You’re so going to...gods, you’re so stupid.” Kiyoomi mumbled, pulling him closer. Atsumu smirked, burying his face in his shoulder. 

“Yeah, well I can’t do much but rebel from inside. Finally get to put my inherent stubbornness to use. I love ya, Omi, but… I can't lie, not to my people.” Atsumu said, craning his head up to lock eyes with Kiyoomi. 

“Please reconsider.” Kiyoomi begged him. “It’ll be easier for you, for  _ us _ , if you just give the speech. My parents—“

“Hate me.” Atsumu deadpanned. “They despise me. Not only am I refusing to be their puppet, I’m also in love with their son. The only reason I’m still walking around without chains on my wrists is because of yer influence.” Kiyoomi hummed in response. He paused, his hands still on Atsumu’s shoulders. 

He was right. It was because of him that he was still free. It was because of him that he was still  _ breathing. _ He stared into Atsumu’s eyes, the deep amber orbs betraying nothing. They were full of love, full of promises. 

But he was a damn good liar. Kiyoomi felt the familiar sense of fear, of  _ being abandoned _ . He wasn’t stupid. He knew that, given the chance, Atsumu would leave him and go home. And he couldn’t blame him. 

“Are you using me, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi asked quietly. Atsumu jolted, staring at him blankly. He shook his head slowly, bringing it down to rest his head on his shoulder. 

“I could never do that to ya, Omi. I love ya.” Atsumu vowed. 

“Why?” Kiyoomi pressed. “Why do you love me? You shouldn’t--”

“I know I shouldn’t.” Atsumu cut him off. “But I do anyway. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the way ya smile, or the way ya know how to comfort me when I’m upset, or the way yer hair shines in the sun, or how big yer heart is. I don’t know, but I am in love with ya.”

“I’m in love with you too.” Kiyoomi said quietly. “I just… I wish…”

“Me too.” Atsumu murmured. “I wish it was better too. I wish I was free, I wish I was home, or had been able to come here out of choice. But I still love ya, Omi.” Kiyoomi could feel his heart breaking, his insides tearing themselves apart as he listened to Atsumu talk. 

He wanted to save him. He wanted to take him home. It was clear in his eyes; he may love Kiyoomi, but his heart was in Inarizaki. 

And he couldn’t blame him one bit. 

“I have to go.” Kiyoomi whispered. “I’ll be back later, okay?” 

“I’ll see ya later, Omi.” Atsumu said, half-smiling. Kiyoomi sighed as he shut the door, hearing the familiar lock click back into place. He slumped against the door, running his hand through his hair. 

He had to make this right. Seeing Atsumu like this was horrible. Kiyoomi sighed, shaking his head. He pulled himself off the wall and walked hurriedly down the hall. 

He knew what he had to do.

_ If you love someone, let them go.  _

-

It was pitch black when Kiyoomi stepped into the deserted market. He wiped his brow as he walked away from the tavern he had just exited. He glanced both directions, making sure his hood was fully covering his face. If he was caught, it would be catastrophic. 

Kiyoomi turned down another alley. He had to find someone, soon.

He had visited every damn bar in the city. No one was around, none of the supposed contacts. None of the black flags streaked with red, none of the rumored scarves around anyone’s necks. None of the rebels, none of the Inarizaki people. 

Rumors of the Inarizaki rebels had spread. The organized coup, hellbent on restoring the kingdom.  _ Even though it had barely been a few months since the succession.  _ He asked every bartender, everyone he could think of. No one knew, and if they did, they were not saying anything. 

Kiyoomi supposed it was the latter when he was cornered. He had noticed it slowly. An extra shadow following him, another person tailing him. Someone walking up next to him and forcing him to change his direction. 

Kiyoomi found himself standing in an alley, staring up at a massive brick wall. He turned slightly, hearing someone behind him. His hand drifted to his knife, the only weapon he could grab before his endeavor. 

Five people, each of their identities obscured by a scarf and mask. The black and crimson streaks, same as the flag that had been planted at the site of the attack in the Northern Bay region. Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes. This was them. 

“You’re some of the insurgents, I presume.” Kiyoomi said flatly. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“So we’ve heard. But the question is  _ why _ ?” One of them stepped forward, his voice oddly familiar. The leader of the group, Kiyoomi guessed. The leader pulled down his back and white scarf. Kiyoomi gasped, his eyes widening slightly. 

His face was scarred, a cut twisting from the left side of his mouth across his cheek. His grey eyes were cold, and his silver hair was disheveled from his covering. 

If it hadn’t been for those features, Kiyoomi would’ve thought Atsumu was standing in front of him. 

“Osamu.” He greeted, forcing his tone to be neutral. “I should have known.”

“Sakusa.” Osamu said coldly. “I trust you have a good reason for this. Or lots of guts. What do you want?”

“I have a proposal for you.” Kiyoomi said, keeping the tremor out of his voice. Osamu raised a brow. 

“Oh? Do tell. I haven’t got all night, no need for dramatics.” Kiyoomi forced his expression to remain placid. He understood why Osamu was so upset, why he was so hostile. He had to try and keep the factors in mind, and hold the peace for as long as he could.

“I want to help you rescue Atsumu.” He blurted out. Osamu’s expression didn’t change. He looked rather unimpressed. 

“My brother. The one you’ve been sleeping with?” He deadpanned. Kiyoomi jumped, his eyes widening.

“How—“ He sputtered, his face turning red. 

“We have people. But why do you want to free your  _ toy?” _ Osamu spat the last word, causing Kiyoomi to flinch. He steadied himself and met Osamu’s gaze evenly.

“Atsumu’s with me out of choice. He loves me, but he’s miserable at Itachiyama. And I want to help him get out.” He explained. Osamu tapped his foot against the ground. He narrowed his eyes.

“After they took Atsumu, the guards held me down.” Osamu began, clear bitterness in his voice. “Said I had to be punished for my insolence. One of them took their sword out and dragged it across my face. Hurt like hell, but it’s given me even more of a reason to fight.” Kiyoomi’s mouth was dry as he listened to Osamu speak. The former prince had changed drastically; he remembered him being funny and quiet, a pleasant person to talk to. Now he was a hardened warrior, his goals and ambition the only thing he had left. He’d been hurt over and over again, and now he was looking for revenge. 

Kiyoomi wondered if Atsumu would be acting like this if he had been the free twin. Would he be the scarred, angry man standing before him, or would he have found a different outlet to save his brother? He shook it off. He could ponder it later. 

“I’m so sor--” Kiyoomi started.

“Save yer pity.” Osamu sneered. His scar twisted grotesquely in the shadows. “I don’t want to hear anything out of yer mouth but a plan of attack.” 

“A banquet.” Kiyoomi blurted. “Friday. You can attack it. In the confusion, you can slip out with Atsumu. It’s risky, but it’s-- it’s probably the last chance you’ll have.”

“What?” Osamu’s eyes narrowed as he stopped pacing. His hand drifted to his weapon. “What do you mean?” 

“If Atsumu doesn’t give the speech, I’m… I’m scared that my parents won’t see a reason to keep him around.” Kiyoomi confessed. Osamu’s mask cracked slightly, the first sign of panic flickering across his face. Kiyoomi chose to press it, using the desperation on his eyes. “Osamu, please. Save him.” 

Kiyoomi extended his hand, his eyes not leaving Osamu’s. The grey haired man glanced at it, then back at Kiyoomi. He locked eyes with him and nodded, clasping his hand. He shook it once. 

“We’ll be there.” He promised, his voice low. “And we will get Atsumu out.” 

“Thank you.” Kiyoomi said. 

“I’m not doing this for you.” Osamu said. With that, he pulled his scarf and hood back up, and melted back into the shadows, leaving Kiyoomi alone to wonder if he made a terrible mistake. 

-

Friday arrived before Kiyoomi was ready. 

He had done his best to act normally. To act as if a life-altering event wasn’t going to be taking place at the end of the week. Kiyoomi knew he would be sacrificing other lives in exchange for Atsumu. He knew that not everyone walking into the luncheon would be walking out again. 

He was willing to make that trade. 

Atsumu didn’t suspect anything. That was the most important part. If he found out, it was likely the king would too. It was imperative that he continued to act in the same way. 

Kiyoomi didn’t sleep Thursday. He suspected he wouldn’t sleep for a very long time after Friday’s events. He held Atsumu close, knowing it would be the last time he got to do so. He would miss him, but this was better for everyone. 

Kiyoomi kept Atsumu on his arm as they entered the courtyard. Great pillars surrounded the pavilion, the grassy field kept cropped and the blades short. Tables had been set up, and the tent taken down as the sun shone down on them brightly. 

Ironic. 

Atsumu was seated away from Kiyoomi again, no matter how much he bargained and pleaded with his parents. He was not part of the royal family, and could not sit near them. Kiyoomi knew it was another tactic to ostracize him, make him nervous and uncomfortable. It usually succeeded. Kiyoomi was happy it would be ending today. 

The luncheon dragged on, the sheer dullness of it all typically would have caused Kiyoomi to pass out. But the apprehension was keeping him on his toes as he scanned the area, eyes narrowed. 

Kiyoomi tilted his head back. His eyes widened briefly as he saw the figures on the palace walls. Scarves, guns, and knives, the rest of the features of each person blocked by the sun. He sat up sharply, his breath catching in his throat. 

_ It was time.  _

The first bomb went off, and the screams started. 

Kiyoomi’s vision went black briefly. He had known that the rebels would use something big, but he hadn’t expected explosions. He mentally cursed his stupidity. It was fine, he supposed. An easier way to get Atsumu out. 

He turned to the blonde, who’s eyes were wide. He was sitting at attention, mouth agape slightly. Kiyoomi ran over to him as gunshots began to sound, little firecrackers going off behind him. 

The hail of gunfire was soon deafening, filling all of his senses. The smell of smoke was strong, stinging the insides of his nose and making his head hurt. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself why he was doing this. Kiyoomi grabbed Atsumu’s hand, pulling him up. The blonde was glancing around fervently, his eyes glittering dangerously. 

“We need to go, now.” He said sharply. “Come on.” Kiyoomi didn’t wait for a response, instead dragging Atsumu to the back of the courtyard. 

“Omi, what’s going on?” Atsumu demanded. Kiyoomi glanced around to make sure no one was around. Not that they would be able to hear him over the gunfire and screaming. 

“I made a deal.” He said, his voice hushed. Atsumu’s head shot up. 

“With who?” He asked, curious. 

“The rebels. Your brother. They’re here to take you home.” Kiyoomi whispered, smiling slightly. “Or at least get you out of Itachiyama.”

“R-really?” Atsumu’s eyes glimmered with hope. Kiyoomi tried not to be hurt by it. He knew he would never have been enough for Atsumu. He wasn’t home. He was one of his many jailers, and he wanted to set him free. 

“Yeah. I promise.” Kiyoomi said. He glanced around the courtyard. Sparks flashed in the smoke as the guards began to hunt, trying to fight off the rebels. He bit his lip. Osamu said he would find them, and he had to trust that. Kiyoomi glanced back at Atsumu. His eyes were wonderstruck, a small grin dancing across his face. 

“I’m going home.” He said faintly. “I’m going… I’m going home.” 

“Yeah, ya are.” Osamu materialized out of the smoke. Kiyoomi turned, nodding to him. Osamu didn’t spare him a second glance, beelining for Atsumu. 

“‘Samu?” Atsumu asked, tilting his head. “Why--what?” 

“I came ta get ya.” He said, spreading his arms. “Come give me a hug, asshole. Ya scared me, ya know, and this is the least ya can do.” Kiyoomi stepped back as Atsumu ran forward, enveloping his brother in a hug. Kiyoomi smiled softly, watching the two reunite. 

“Did ya and Sunarin get married yet?” Atsumu asked, barely audible over the fighting. Osamu laughed, shaking his head. 

“ _ That’s _ the first question ya have?” 

“I’ve got a year’s worth of gossip ta catch up on, of course it is.” Kiyoomi bit back a laugh of his own. He didn’t want to intrude on the two. He glanced back to the battle, watching the smoke swirl up to the sky. He frowned slightly, knowing that his father was going to have quite the time trying to cover this up. 

He knew that another war was impending. But perhaps Atsumu would be safe from the aftermath this time. 

“Omi?” Atsumu was standing next to him again. Kiyoomi jumped slightly, turning to him. 

“Yeah?” He said, trying to memorize Atsumu one last time. He knew he would never see him after this. Atsumu would have to disappear, stay away from most people for a long time. Kiyoomi himself would probably never lay eyes on him once more. The thought stung, but he shook it off. He wanted to be happy for him, for his freedom.

He deserved it, after all. 

“I guess this is goodbye.” Atsumu said quietly. Kiyoomi nodded once, fighting back tears. It was funny, how even during an attack like this, where people were dying, he was still wholly focused on Atsumu, the one person who would benefit from this. 

“I guess it is.” He said simply. “I hope you’re happier, Atsumu.” The blonde stepped forward, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Come with me.” He urged quietly. “Ya don’t hafta stay here.” Kiyoomi had already contemplated that. Running away with Atsumu, starting a new life with him. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He was loyal to Itachiyama, just as Atsumu was loyal to Inarizaki.

It was never meant to be, he had decided. And as much as it hurt, that was the way of the world. Kiyoomi would rather see Atsumu happy then suffer in Itachiyama for even a few more years. 

“I can’t.” He said hoarsely. “I have… I have a job to do here.” Atsumu smiled sadly, nodding once. 

“I understand. Bye, Omi-kun. I… I love ya.” 

“I love you too.” Kiyoomi whispered, stepping back. “Go home, Atsumu. I’ll see you again someday.” Atsumu drew back as well. Osamu stood next to him, his face unreadable as he watched the exchange. He reached forward and grasped Atsumu’s arm, pulling him back. 

“We gotta go, ‘Tsumu. Aran’s waiting ta get ya out, I’ll be right behind ya.” Osamu said quickly, directing him in the right direction. Kiyoomi turned away. He fought back his tears. He wanted Atsumu to stay, to choose him. But he couldn’t ask that of him, not after everything he had endured. 

Kiyoomi took a deep breath, stepping back into the fray. The gunshots had died down as the goal had been achieved. The streaming remained, the panic still there. He surveyed the damage, the smoke rising from fallen pillars and collapsed buildings. There were bodies scattered in the courtyard, blood staining the green grass a dark maroon color. 

“Incredible what we can accomplish, is it not?” A voice behind him said, a haughty note coloring it. 

“Osamu?” Kiyoomi turned around, furling his brow. The Inarizaki prince was standing a few meters away, his scarf blowing in the room. His gun had been strapped back into its holster, but his hand was clutching the hilt of his sword. “Why are you still here?” 

“I had one more thing to take care of. A loose end, if ya will.” His eyes betrayed nothing, not even a glimmer of light present. Kiyoomi’s stomach twisted nervously.

“I see.” He managed to say. 

“I could have just shot ya, y’know.” Osamu drawled, his face contorted into a sneer. The scar seemed more prominent than ever, the pale pink skin twisted out of shape by his smug expression. Kiyoomi could feel sweat trickling down the back of his neck as he stepped back. 

“Osamu, what are you doing?” He hissed out. “We’re on the same side.” 

“That’s where yer wrong, princeling.” Osamu snickered, drawing his sword. “I don’t align with the bastards that took my brother or ruined my face.” 

Kiyoomi’s breath hitched in his throat as he continued to backtrack. Of course. He should have seen this coming. Osamu had been too eager to help, not suspicious enough. *He was planning this all along.* 

“Take solace in knowing yer death will help Atsumu get home. That’s what you wanted, right?” Osamu said, tilting his head. Kiyoomi’s back hit a pillar. He was trapped. Osamu continued to stalk closer, his eyes flashing with apprehension. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“OSAMU,  _ NO _ !” Atsumu’s voice sounded far away. Kiyoomi glanced over, seeing the blonde sprinting toward him. Osamu pulled up his sword, a grim smile on his face. 

“May the gods have mercy on yer soul.” He mocked, thrusting his sword forward. 

Kiyoomi threw his arms up, trying to shield himself from the impending blow, the death strike that was coming— 

But it never came. Kiyoomi opened his eyes slowly, hesitantly lowering his arm. He bit back a horrified scream as he saw someone standing over him. 

Defending him. 

Kiyoomi could see the sword tip sticking through the back of the man in front of him. There was blood dripping down the shirt, staining the tiled floor. Osamu was staring in shock, his sword still buried in the chest of Kiyoomi’s savior. The prince scrambled to his feet and drew his own weapon and shoved the intruder back. He let out a flurry of blows, forcing Osamu to retreat. The former prince glared at him before whirling around and sprinting back to the battle field. He barely spared him another glance, whirling around, eyes scanning the floor desperately searching for-

“Atsumu!” He screamed, turning back around. The man had crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled below him, the sword still embedded in his chest. His eyes were half shut as the crimson color dribbled down his chin as he coughed. 

“Omi.” He forced out. Kiyoomi dropped to his knees next to him. Atsumu’s face was already ashen. Kiyoomi wanted to scream, but all he could do was reach for Atsumu’s hand. He took it immediately, his body spasming slightly. “Hurts.” 

“I know love, I know.” Kiyoomi whispered. The rest of the battle faded to background buzz, everything a dull ringing. All he could see was Atsumu, and his ruby blood shining on the floor. 

“Gonna go n-now.” 

“It’s okay. You can rest.” Kiyoomi gently brushed some of the hair out of his face. He could feel tears rolling down his cheeks, a salty taste entering his mouth. He forced his sobs to stay back, trying to be brave for Atsumu. 

“Going home.” Atsumu gasped out, his hand bone white in Kiyoomi’s. The blood that dotted his cheek looked like constellations, patterns that stuck out on his face as if they were morbid little stars. Kiyoomi leaned down and kissed him, the iron and salty taste intermingling. Atsumu closed his eyes slowly, unshed tears shining behind them. 

“I love you.” Kiyoomi whispered as he pulled away slightly. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” Atsumu smiled once, exhaling slightly. 

And then he was still. 

Kiyoomi sobbed, still whispering the same words over and over again. Only the wind would hear. 

-

Atsumu was buried in Itachiyama. 

Kiyoomi insisted he be given medals of honor and service, with the best of funeral rites. He had earned it. His parents didn’t argue it, despite all of their misgivings about him.  _ After all they did to him, after everything they put him through.  _ Kiyoomi wasn’t sure he could forgive them. But he would try. They’d known that Kiyoomi was planning on elevating Atsumu to Prince Consort when his late sister had become queen, and the love that was shared between the two. 

The attack on the banquet would inevitably plunge Itachiyama and Inarizaki back into war. The casualty count made Kiyoomi’s head spin. Not only had he lost Atsumu, but his sisters had died as well. Kiyoomi was the only surviving heir.

Inarizaki officials attended the ceremony. Osamu was notably absent. Kiyoomi felt the grieving, angry stares on his back the entire time. Sweat trickled down his face. He would have to address them soon. His parents knew it too; the Inairzaki War had been close, and with the right trigger, the conflict could be started once more. And Kiyoomi wasn’t certain if they could win it. 

_ I never should have contacted that bastard fox _ . Kiyoomi bit his lip, keeping his face as stoic as he could. He wanted to break down. He wanted to sob, he wanted to beg the stars for his lover back. 

The stars never listened, anyway. 

Atsumu looked different in death. He was still, contrary to the never ceasing motion he had in life. Kiyoomi half-expected his caramel eyes to open, to be full of warmth and life and laugh at him for looking so down.

Tears fell down his face. Slowly at first, but soon they were faster and faster. He clutched the coffin with an iron grip. Atsumu’s hair was spread out like a halo, the golden locks framing his face. It was strange to think that beneath his shirt, there was a gaping hole in his chest. Where the crimson has spilled out, and what caused death to come for him.

He still looked beautiful nonetheless. 

Kiyoomi barely heard a word of what the priests were saying. He was too focused on Atsumu. It hurt him to see him so motionless, to know he would never stand up again. He could still feel a shadow of his blood on his hands, and his last words were stuck on loop in his ears.

He sobbed silently, doing his best to keep his back straight as he stood at attention. He could break down later, out of the eyes of the public. He had to maintain the picture of strength, of power. 

He hated every second of it. 

His parents left as soon the ceremony was over and Atsumu’s coffin had been lowered into the ground. Kiyoomi helped bury him. Every stroke of the shovel was another stab to his heart, a reminder that he was gone. 

And he stayed after it was done. He sat next to the tombstone, his head resting against it. The sun had set when he finally stood back up and stumbled out of the graveyard, passing the resting places of hundreds of other people. 

_ This isn’t right.  _

It should have been him. He should be the one buried, he should be the one dead. Atsumu was so close. He had almost made it to freedom, to  _ home.  _

But he gave it all for Kiyoomi. 

That was perhaps the worst part of it. Kiyoomi turned around, surveying the sea of headstones. The only thing that lived here was grief. It thrived, eating away at everyone who had a loved one buried in the hills. Kiyoomi wiped his eyes, forcing himself to turn around. 

“Goodbye, Atsumu.” Kiyoomi whispered as he walked out of the cemetery. “I’ll miss you.” 

_ I hope he misses me too.  _

-

“Ya were supposed to keep him safe.” Osamu snarled. Kiyoomi flinched away from the younger twin— the new crown prince of Inarizaki, who would no doubt be formally declaring war once more “As part of the peace deal, ya were to keep him safe.  _ Alive _ .” Kiyoomi wanted to break down and apologize. He wanted to beg for forgiveness. He wanted to express how much Atsumu meant to him. 

But he was the future king of an empire. His sisters were both dead, and he was the sole heir remaining. He could not afford such weakness.  _ Strength. Power. Victory. _

“Inarizaki lost to Itachiyama five years ago in the war.” Kiyoomi was shocked by how steely his voice was, by how cold and distant he sounded. Osamu’s eyes flickered, but his angry gaze held. “And as part of the terms, one of your heirs was to remain with us.” He lowered his voice. “And if I recall, you are the one who put a knife through his chest.” 

“It was yer plan and ya swore to protect him.” Osamu spat back. 

“I did my best.” Kiyoomi fired back. “He chose to jump in front of me.” 

“Ya should have pushed him out of the way, if ya really cared about him.” Kiyoomi had no words for that. He lifted his chin, staring the Inarizaki prince down. 

“He wasn’t--he loved me, and I loved him. He wasn’t manipulated into anything.” Kiyoomi rebutted, his temper rising.

“Don’t play coy with me. I know what yer parents did ta him. Ya may have corrupted him.” Osamu began slowly, drawing back. “But he was always Inarizaki at his core. And he died for the very man who took everything from him.”

“It was your sword in his chest.” Kiyoomi spat. Osamu narrowed his eyes, standing up straight. His scar stuck out in the lighting, like it was bleeding once again. 

“I hope yer ready for a war,  _ Prince.  _ The terms were broken, and Inarizaki will rise again, soon.” The other man strode past Kiyoomi, pulling open the door and exiting. Kiyoomi watched him go, his expression neutral. 

Atsumu would hate to see this happening. 

Kiyoomi clenched his fists. This war would be fought in his name, and it hurt. It hurt to think that all his legacy would be another war, more tragedy. It was funny how things always came full-circle. A war is what started everything, and a war is what came out of it. 

Kiyoomi took a deep breath before exiting the room. The time to mourn was over, and he had a war to win. 

_ I’m sorry, Atsumu.  _

-

_ 251 (Renewed Era): The Inarizaki- Itachiyama War _

_ Negotiations between the Itachiyama Empire and the Kingdom of Inarizaki dissolved. Inarizaki had been using their resources to pay off Itachiyama for ten years, but ceased trade for unknown reasons, prompting the Itachiyama Empire to declare war. The war lasted five years, ending in the defeat of Inarizaki after the siege in the capital. As part of the deal for peace, the kingdom was forced to give up one of their two heirs as tribute.  _

_ 256 RN: The Height of Itachiyama  _

_ The Itachiyama Empire controlled almost the entire country for a year. At their height, the Empire controlled almost 100,000 square miles, with almost all of the foreign kingdoms of the island under their thumb. The future seemed secured for them, with all three heirs ready to ascend. The absorbed kingdoms remained pacified, under the policies instilled by  _ **_King Sakusa Akira._ ** _ The policies allowed countries to keep their traditions, values, and other aspects of the former kingdom as long as they agreed to follow Itachiyama as a whole.  _

_ However, Inarizaki rebels were already planning an uprising (see: Inarizaki succession) that would result in the deaths of two of the three heirs, along with many other prominent members of the Empire that would lead to another war. _

_ 257 RN: The Succession of Inarizaki from Itachiyama _

_ Inarizaki rebels attacked one of the luncheons, led by the-would be  _ **_King Miya Osamu._ ** _ It was an effort to rescue  _ **_Prince Miya Atsumu,_ ** _ but in the end resulted in his death. Inarizaki declared war afterward, tearing away from the Empire.  _ **_King Sakusa Kiyoomi_ ** _ did his best to maintain the peace, however it fell apart, launching the island back into a century of war. It is still ongoing today, without signs of being let up.  _

_ “The death of one can spark the death of millions.”  _

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there  
> Warning for those from the top: Major character death and graphic depictions of violence 
> 
> this was NOT meant to be as long as it turned out to be oops
> 
> ALSO! SIDE NOTE (PLEASE read this if/before you comment) 
> 
> I feel like I need to say that this is not meant to represent Stockholm’s syndrome. I tried to show that  
> A. There was _prior_ foundation to the romance  
> B. Both Atsumu and Sakusa were reluctant to let their previous feelings resurface and when they did, were able to let each other go.  
> C. There was mutual respect for one another   
> D. There was no manipulation or torture involved. 
> 
> I have done my background research on the syndrome specifically to make sure that this fic didn’t fall under it, and discussed it with multiple people who gave the same input of this does not qualify as Stockholm’s syndrome 
> 
> If I receive any comments about the syndrome, I will be removing them due to my own discomfort. Thank you for understanding!
> 
> Osamu as a rebel leader... I just thought it would be neat until it blew up in his face LOL! 
> 
> I hope y'all enjoyed! See you tomorrow!


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